


life couldn't get much sweeter

by flashlightinacave



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Banter, Bickering, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashlightinacave/pseuds/flashlightinacave
Summary: Fabiola frowns and scrunches her eyebrows. She tilts her head—studying them with intent, in a manner she typically reserves for her robots, or a pair of interlocking gears—and Devi can tell she doesn’t believe either of them one bit. “Uh. Okay then.”Eleanor’s eyes widen and she turns to Fabiola, squealing with excitement. “Don’t you get it, Fab?” She claps her hands together. “They’re clearly on a date!”“We’re not on a date!” Devi and Ben exclaim at the same time.or; 5 times Ben and Devi try (and fail) to hide the fact they’re dating, and the 1 time they admit it
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 29
Kudos: 110





	life couldn't get much sweeter

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is truly just... chaotic ridiculous fun. I don't really have any other way to describe it.
> 
> It's stylistically, very very different from what I usually post (very few metaphors and it's mostly action and dialogue-oriented rather than introspective, though there are a few metaphors because I can't completely stop myself from writing them), so I'm actually a bit nervous posting it, so I really, really hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> As always, I gotta thank Bhargavi, because I told her I wanted to write another 5+1 featuring more characters than just Devi and Ben and she offered me this ridiculously fun idea and beyond that, I just rolled with it.
> 
> Remote learning is gonna be taking over my life starting on Tuesday, September 8th, so you guys definitely won't see as many fics from me, but I'll still write and post when I can find the time, I simply adore these two idiots too much to stop writing them... even when I should be doing my lectures/modules for genetics, and orgo, and cell bio, and stats, and my history elective instead lmaooooo
> 
> (Who knows, maybe to study I'll write Devi and Ben bickering about the concepts I learn in my courses.)
> 
> Back in April, I really didn't think I'd still be here, just as obsessed with these two and this very niche Netflix show, and the support everyone has shown me and my writing means a ton, because I know I've grown a lot since the very first fic I posted for these two.
> 
> Title comes from the MARINA song "Froot"
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much and please enjoy!

The thing about being in a secret relationship is, as the title suggests, it requires secrecy, stealth, _subtlety_.

And Devi doesn’t necessarily want to be sworn to secrecy, believe her, she doesn’t.

It’s just… this thing with Ben—whatever it is, though she supposes he’s her boyfriend—is rather new and tentative and she doesn’t really want to tell anyone in case things don’t work out.

(She sure hopes it works out though because she really likes spending time with him, and bickering with him, and just being with him. And she really, _really_ likes kissing him.)

Devi likes to think she and Ben have been pretty good at keeping their new relationship a secret, and that she’s done a good job balancing having a boyfriend, and maintaining her best friends and family, but recently things have spiralled a bit out of control.

She shouldn’t be surprised though, she’s never exactly been one for subtlety.

* * *

1.

Devi hates that she’s once again ended up in a situation where she’s lying to her two best friends.

She knows Eleanor and Fabiola deserve better than lies, but really, she doesn’t know how to tell them about this. Doesn’t know how to explain that the boy she spent ten years fostering a mutual hatred for is now someone she really, really likes, and thinks she might love. How to properly explain the tipping point of her relationship with Ben that was Malibu. How to emphasize its weight, its meaning.

She’s been secretly dating—she has yet to find a better term for it—Ben for the past three weeks now and they’ve been careful with their tentative relationship. Most of their rendezvous have consisted of making out in dark closets or someone’s room, but they’ve gone on a few dates, mostly seeing movies together and nearly getting kicked out for bickering or pointing out factual inaccuracies.

They both managed to keep their mouths shut today, but as soon as they leave the cinema, Ben doesn’t hesitate to make his first complaint.

“That movie was completely ridiculous!”

Devi reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers. She chuckles. “What part?”

They make their way out of the cinema and back into the mall, joined hands swinging between them. “Well, all of the genetics for starters. If that movie really took place in our modern era, then you don’t need to kidnap people to sequence their genome. The most you need is like, a spit sample or something.”

Devi rolls her eyes. “It’s called creative license, Gross. Have you heard of it?”

Ben squeezes her hand more tightly. “I am smarter than you, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand this, but there’s a difference between creative license and blatant inaccuracy.”

Devi stops and turns towards him. “How was it a blatant inaccuracy? The scientist was a sadist, that was why she wanted she wanted to torture the subjects while extracting their DNA.”

“She could have done those two things independently, you know?” Ben argues. “The plot sure as hell would have moved faster if she’d just taken a sample at the beginning.”

“It’s a movie, Ben, they had to drag things out a bit.” She taps his nose and snorts. “Besides, what do you know about DNA sequencing?”

Ben’s eyes glint, accepting her challenge. “Quite a lot actually. I read this really interesting book on genome sequencing recently. DNA sequencing can be broken down into three distinct steps: dideoxy sequencing, assembly, and annotation. Of course, nowadays, scientists tend to use a much faster method known as shotgun seque—”

He’s cut off by a familiar voice. “Uh, hi, Devi. Ben.”

Devi whips around and finds herself face to face with Eleanor and Fabiola. “Hi, El, Fab!” she yelps, her voice sounding a bit strangled.

“I’m a bit surprised to see you two here. Together,” Fabiola says, her tone creeping dangerously close to suspicion.

“I thought you had to help your mom with something, Devi,” Eleanor adds, narrowing her eyes. She’s a lot less subtle, a lot more openly doubtful.

“I did!” Devi exclaims. “Took a lot less time than expected, so I texted Ben afterwards so we could work on our chemistry project for Ms. Paloma.” Devi only then realizes she and Ben are still holding hands, and tugs her hand away quickly as if she’s been burned, clasping her hands together behind her back.

Fabiola narrows her eyes now. “You two were at the movies working on a chemistry project?”

And at the exact same time, Eleanor asks, “Since when have you and Ben had each other’s phone numbers?”

“Si—since, always,” Ben stammers, answering Eleanor’s question. He smirks, regaining his confidence. “You have to have some way to keep tabs on your former rival.”

Eleanor quirks an eyebrow and frowns. “Former?”

“Current!” Devi rushes to correct. “Current and—uh—eternal academic rival.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Fabiola says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You were at the movies working on a chemistry project?”

Eleanor taps her chin. “I thought you guys finished that project last week.”

“We were seeing a movie involving genetics!” Ben blurts out.

Fabiola snorts. “Genetics is biology.”

“Epi—epigenetics!” Devi clarifies. “You know, gene expression, which often involves a lot of chemistry.” She clears her throat. “Epigenetics. That’s what our project and—uh—the movie was about.”

Fabiola frowns and scrunches her eyebrows. She tilts her head—studying them with intent, in a manner she typically reserves for her robots, or a pair of interlocking gears—and Devi can tell she doesn’t believe either of them one bit. “Uh. Okay then.”

Eleanor’s eyes widen and she turns to Fabiola, squealing with excitement. “Don’t you get it, Fab?” She claps her hands together. “They’re clearly on a date!”

“We’re not on a date!” Devi and Ben exclaim at the same time.

Eleanor snorts and rolls her eyes. “Devi, you two were holding hands. Holding hands! How obvious do you have to be?”

“We weren’t holding hands!” Ben protests. “I was—I was just handing her something.”

“Handing her something?” Fabiola repeats, giving Ben a suspicious glare.

“What was he handing you, Devi?” Eleanor asks.

Devi only then realizes that Ben is resting a hand on her shoulder, almost habitually, and elbows him so he moves away from her. She’s so distracted by this that she doesn’t give Eleanor’s question a ton of thought. “Uh… a hair tie.”

Eleanor barks out a laugh. “I’m sorry, but why the fuck would Ben have a hair tie? He’s a guy.”

Devi turns to Ben, smiling gently. “Because he’s a gentleman.” He matches her smile with a soft smile of his own, one that makes Devi’s heart flutter in her chest like she’s the protagonist of a goddamn rom-com.

She likes that Ben can do that, that he can make her feel lighter than air, like she’s drifting among the clouds, soaring among the stars. She forgets her current predicament, only returning to reality when she catches Eleanor and Fabiola exchanging a heavy weighted look. 

“Since when?” Fabiola asks at the same time that Eleanor exclaims, “Bullshit!”

“Please,” Ben scoffs. “It’s not exactly like either of you are the picture of ladylike.”

Eleanor’s gaze suddenly sharpens and she points a menacing finger at him. “Say that one more time, Benjamin,” she grits out, “and I’ll show you just how unladylike I can be.”

Fabiola pats Eleanor’s arm condescendingly. “I know Ben is short, El, but you’re _tiny.”_

The four of them begin to make their way towards the food court and Devi snorts with derision. “What are you gonna do, Eleanor? Fight him?”

Ben crackles his knuckles. “I could take her.”

Devi scoffs. “Now, that’s debatable.”

“I’m jacked, Devi!”

“But Eleanor is short _and_ angry.”

“Still not seeing an explanation for your bullshit excuse,” Fabiola reminds them.

“He was handing me something.” Devi punches Ben in the arm, giving him a dark glare. “Right, Ben?”

She knows she’s being a bit unfair, she’s the one who took Ben’s hand in the first place, but Ben should have let go the minute they started talking to Eleanor and Fabiola. And he _certainly_ shouldn’t have placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“Right,” Ben agrees as they arrive in the food court. “I’m gonna get some fries,” he turns to Devi. “You want anything, David?”

Devi frowns at him and waves her hand. “No. I’m good.”

Ben rocks forward on his heels and leans in closer, as if he means to kiss her goodbye. In usual circumstances, Devi would close the distance between them, but her two best friends are here, making these circumstances far from usual. She swats his arm and he quickly flinches back. “Y—yup,” he stammers. “Fries.” He quickly turns away from Devi, leaving her alone with Eleanor and Fabiola.

Devi sighs, tossing a wistful look in Ben’s direction, and pulls out a chair at a nearby table, plopping down into it, and Eleanor and Fabiola take seats across from her.

Eleanor props her chin upon her hands. “So Devi, you said Ben was giving you a hair tie, earlier?” She bats her eyelashes suggestively.

“That’s what I said earlier, yes,” Devi responds, annoyed that Eleanor won’t drop the topic.

“Hmm,” Eleanor hums, tapping her chin. “Didn’t you once say you’d rather die than accept anything from Ben?” 

Okay, to be fair, Devi vaguely does remember saying that, but she was in third grade! She’s a bit surprised El remembers, quite frankly.

“I remember when you were too stubborn to accept his extra pencil case because you thought he’d hexed it to make you fail,” Fabiola snorts.

“You’re kidding, Fab. That was in like, sixth grade.”

“Still relevant evidence,” Fabiola says, smirking.

“Okay fine,” Devi concedes. “I did say that, but Ben and I are friends now. It’s different.”  
  
Eleanor wiggles her eyebrows. “Just friends?”

Devi gives Eleanor a dark, angry glare. “What are you insinuating, El?”

Eleanor smirks. “I think you know exactly what I’m insinuating, Devi.”

“No, Eleanor,” Devi growls. “I don’t.”

Eleanor tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles smugly. “I’m just saying it’s pretty obvious that you two are dat—”

“Hey, guys!” Ben interrupts, sliding into the seat across from Devi, placing his carton of fries on the table.

Eleanor shakes her head disapprovingly. “Read the room, Benjamin, you just interrupted girl talk.”

Devi plops a fry into her mouth. “Yeah, go away, Ben.” She steals another handful.

“Fine,” Ben says, sliding the carton of fries away from the center of the table and back towards him. “But, I’m taking _my_ fries with me.”

Devi pulls the carton back towards her. “Nope.” She plops another fry into her mouth. “They’re my fries now.”

Ben pouts. “David.” His face is scrunched up in a manner that’s kind of pitiful, and _no_ , she’s not falling for this again _._ “ _Last week_ you didn’t want my fries.” He seems to notice the error of his words a moment too late, his cheeks tinting pink. 

Eleanor and Fabiola exchange a weighted look. “Last week!?” they exclaim in unison.

Devi scowls in Ben’s direction, before turning back to her friends. “Y—yeah,” Devi stammers. “I—uh—ran into Ben at the mall last week.”

Fabiola arches an eyebrow. “And you two shared fries?”

“I was hungry!”

Eleanor pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out an aggravated sigh. “Look, given it’s beyond _obvious_ you two are on a date, I’m not sure how much more of this I want to witness.” She reaches for Fabiola’s arm. “Fab, let’s go. Let’s leave these two idiot lovebirds alone.” She wrinkles her nose. “Before they start making out or something.”

Eleanor stands up from her seat, pulling Fabiola along with her, and Fabiola shoots Devi a final concerned glance.

Devi watches her best friends leave, and the moment they’re out of sight she begins to repeatedly smack Ben’s arm, which is resting on the table.

“Ow! What the hell?” he groans.

Devi reaches across the table to jab him in between the ribs. “Are you happy? Now they definitely know!”

Ben sighs and drops his head into his hands. “Fuck.”

Devi lets out a huff of annoyance. “You are the least subtle person on the planet.” She balls her hands into fists, resting them on the table.

Ben finally looks back up at her, his blue eyes twinkling, worried expression having shifted into a smirk. “You’re no better, David.”

Those blue eyes are so, so beguiling, but she doesn’t take the bait. “Are you kidding me?” Devi practically shrieks. “I spent this entire afternoon trying to put out the fires that you set!”

Sensing her distress, Ben reaches for one of her hands taking it in his. Instantly the tension melts out of her body, and she feels a little bit lighter. 

(When he holds her hand, it is always a bit easier to breathe.)

He brings their joined hands to his mouth to press a swift kiss to her knuckles. “Sorry, Devi” he murmurs against her skin.

She kind of hates that Ben has so much sway over her, that she’s been almost _conditioned_ to react so predictably—to completely soften and for her anger to drift away like tufts of cotton candy—when he says her real name. Especially when he says it like that, reverent, awed, _adoring_.

(She loves it.)

Devi smiles at him and they sit in a few moments of peaceful silence.

Ben eventually breaks it. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Devi nods, encouraging him.

“Why didn’t you want to tell Eleanor and Fabiola that we’re together?” His thumb traces circles on their joined hands.

Devi sighs. “I don’t know,” she admits. “This is all very new and I didn’t want to tell them in case it—you know—didn’t work out.”

Ben’s thumb stills, a worried look crossing his face. “You don’t think we’re gonna work out?”

“Sorry,” she breathes. “Th—that’s not what I mean.” She reaches for his other hand, taking it in her own, and lets out a long, weary sigh. “It’s just, Ben, we’ve hated each other for the past ten years. That’s not exactly a healthy basis for a relationship.”

Ben shakes his head. “I never hated you.”

Devi’s mouth drops agape. “Never?” she repeats.

Ben smiles at her, soft, gentle, genuine. “Never,” he affirms. “Did you ever hate me?”

Devi ponders the question for a moment. The answer is both the opposite of and exactly what she expects, perfectly paradoxical like something bittersweet. “Never.”

Ben grins at her then, bright and clear. His smile is like the sun, not that it burns her eyes, but it warms her to her core, like a gentle fire burning within her.

Despite the reassurance, Devi still wavers, her hands still shake. “Don’t you think we argue too much, though?”

“We do argue a lot, but…” He presses featherlight kisses to each of her fingertips. “I’d rather argue with you than anyone else.”

Devi snorts and affectionately rolls her eyes. “Ben, that’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Ben huffs a laugh and he reaches up to brush his thumb over her cheek, soft as the kiss of a butterfly’s wing. “I get why you want to keep this quiet, Devi,” he murmurs. “It’s new.” He pauses and she can tell he’s weighing his words carefully. “But no matter what happens between _us,_ Eleanor and Fabiola are your best friends. They’ll support you, no matter what. Don’t you think they deserve to know?”

Devi pauses to think for a moment. Ben is right, her friends deserve the truth, they’ve always been honest with her, and she knows she always has their support. Besides, she’s been trying to be a better friend and the last thing she wants to do is continue lying to them.

She squeezes his hand and nods. “You’re right,” she agrees. “They do.”

The tenderness in Ben’s eyes fades and a familiar indignant look crosses his face. “You just said I was right,” he sing-songs.

Devi swats his arm. “Shut up,” she grumbles, but she knows that Ben knows it’s a pretense.

Ben laughs playfully, stands up from his seat, and walks around the table so he can pull Devi up as well. “Now,” he murmurs, directly into her ear. “Let’s continue our date, shall we?”

Devi leans forward, brushing her lips against his, and offers him her hand. 

* * *

2.

Devi knows she’s not the master of subtlety—if the way Eleanor and Fabiola found out about her relationship with Ben is any indication—but she likes to think she’s not completely obvious.

But there is _nothing_ subtle about the situation she’s in right now.

She and Ben had been up in her room, studying for a chemistry test, but any prospect of studying had flown out the window long ago. Currently, he’s pressing her into her bed, kissing her deeply, and the sandalwood scent of his cologne and the taste of spearmint on his tongue shouldn’t be as intoxicating or enticing as it is, but oh well.

She tugs at his hair as he nips at her lower lip, kissing her harder, when a knock startles them apart.

“Devi?” her cousin's voice calls out.

Devi shoves Ben off of her and he lands on the floor, barely regaining his footing with a thump. 

Kamala knocks on her door again. “Kanna, is everything alright?”

Ben glances at her with wide terrified eyes and Devi gestures erratically towards her window. He catches on to her meaning quickly, making his way over to the window and sliding it open. “Everything’s fine, Kamala,” Devi calls back.

“Then why did I hear a thump?” Even though it’s slightly muffled by the closed door, Devi can still hear the suspicion in her cousin’s tone.

Devi races over to her door, steps outside, then quickly shuts her door behind her, so she can stand in front of her cousin. “Hey, Kamala! I’m all good here!” She laughs nervously and clasps her hands behind her back.

Kamala gives her a pointed look. “Why is your lipgloss all smudged?”

“N—no reason!”

She clicks her tongue and raises an eyebrow. “Wasn’t Ben here earlier? Weren’t the two of you studying for a test?”

Devi feels her cheeks warm. “He—uh—had to go home!” 

Kamala places a hand on her hip and pushes her way into Devi’s room. Devi sighs, rushing in after her and her eyes immediately flick to the window where she spots Ben, who’s only partly escaped. He’s halfway there, an arm and a leg outside, one inside.

Devi can tell the exact moment Kamala catches on, as her cousin turns to her with a knowing look on her face. “Devi,” she says sternly. “Why is Ben climbing out your window?”

Devi exchanges a panicked glance with Ben. “Uh…”

Kamala’s eyes light up, the same way they do when she pieces together one of the convoluted plot threads on _Riverdale_. She gasps. “Is he climbing out your window because you want to hide that he’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Devi exclaims, and at the same time Ben says, “I’m not her boyfriend!”

Devi glances at Ben and gestures for him to climb back into her room. He quickly does, shutting the window behind him.

Kamala glances between them both with suspicion. Devi only then notices that Ben’s hair is slightly mussed and that his lips are somewhat shiny from her lip gloss. “So why was Ben climbing out your window, Devi?”

Devi freezes. “Uhhhhhhh…” She suddenly snaps her fingers. “Romeo and Juliet!”

Kamala jerks back. “What?”

Devi clears her throat and laces her hands in front of her. “Ben and I were reading for Romeo and Juliet, for English class, and we were trying to portray the roles accurately.”

Kamala frowns and shakes her head. “My Shakespeare is a little rusty, but I don’t remember anyone climbing out a window?”

“It’s a modern addition!” Ben blurts out.

Kamala glances between them once more. “Alright,” she says, tone submerged in skepticism. She turns back toward Devi. “Devi, I’m just here to tell you that your mom will be home soon.” She pauses and a sly smile takes over her face. “In case there’s anything you don’t want her to see or know.” She leans in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I guess we are more alike than you thought.”

She flashes Devi a final smirk and leaves her room, shutting the door behind her.

Devi flops back down onto her bed in a huff and stares at the ceiling. She feels the mattress dip when Ben sits down next to her and breathes a sigh of relief. “That was a close call.”

Ben huffs a laugh. “I’ll say.”

Devi smacks his arm. “This is your fault!”

“How?”

She whacks him again, this time in the shoulder. “You’re the one who kissed me!”

“You did kiss me back, David.”

“Yeah, but you initiated it!”

“You’re the one who couldn’t keep your cousin out of your room.”

“Well, why weren’t you fully out the window?”

“You didn’t give me enough time!” Ben whines.

“That’s not my fault,” Devi shoots back. “Kamala like, pushed her way in here.”

“She did,” Ben agrees, and then he smirks. “You know, she kind of interrupted us, didn’t she?” He leans in closer and wiggles his eyebrows.

And it’s so, so tempting, but Devi regains her better judgement, and smacks him away instead. “Are you insane?” she shrieks. “Ben, she caught us!”

Ben’s smirk blooms wider— _and why the fuck is he so attractive?_ —and he leans in again, his nose brushing hers. “I’m still not hearing a no.”

Devi pulls back. “What about my mom? If _she_ catches us, she will literally kill you, Ben.”

Ben’s eyes glint and he laughs, leaning in once more, his breath puffing out against her cheek. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Devi arches an eyebrow. “Really? You’d risk death at sixteen and not getting into Yale?” She smirks and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Wow, I must be better at this than I thought.”

“Nah,” Ben says. His voice drops in pitch. “We both know I’m the one of us with real talent.”

His stupid smug smirk makes her heart race and her blood simmer. He’s so attractive to her when he’s like this—inordinately smug, but also smitten—and Devi hates it. What she might hate more is that he knows exactly what effect he has on her. He’s an ass over the fact that she’s attracted to him, which makes her more attracted to him, prompting him to be even more of a ridiculously attractive asshole. It’s a vicious, never-ending, infinitely delightful cycle.

“Shut the fuck up, Ben,” Devi bites back, but she’s already wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

He kisses her back, hard, bruising, and Devi moans into his mouth. She tugs him even close to her by the collar of his shirt, deepening the kiss even further, pressing her thumb against his pulse point, so she can feel the beat of his heart, rapid-fire, intense, _powerful_. He nips her bottom lip and she twists and pulls at his hair as she opens her mouth to him. She sighs with blissful contentment when one of his hands finds its way into her hair, and barely holds back a whimper when he sweeps his tongue into her mouth. He presses a hand against the small of her back—the brush of his skin against hers is like playing with fire, sparks shooting up her spine—causing her to gasp.

Ben breaks away her, eyes lidded and dark, but still glinting cobalt blue. His voice comes out in almost a growl. “You like that, huh?”

“Why are you like this?” Devi grumbles, but she’s already pressing him against her bed and leaning into yet another kiss.

The position she’s in may be far from subtle, but when it comes to kissing Ben, well, subtly be damned. 

* * *

3.

For the most part, she and Ben act the same during school, taking over the class with their bickering, relentlessly competing, and keeping their relationship away from the half-dazed and monotonous stares of their classmates. They’re especially careful around their teachers. 

Of course, it's a bit hard, because she _really_ likes kissing Ben, and he's always just there. So what happens on Wednesday isn't _entirely_ her fault.

It starts with Devi walking up to her locker, during her free period, only to find him leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. It’s stupidly attractive, she thinks as she looks him up and down, but also he’s in her way.

Ben smirks the moment he sees her. “Like what you see, David?”

Devi frowns. “You’re standing in front of my locker.”

He leans in closer, his eyes twinkling. “You’re into it, don’t deny it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re laying it on way too thick, Gross.”

“Yet you like it.”

Devi crosses her arms, mirroring his position. “I hate to break it to you, Ben, but you’re not nearly as smooth as you think you are.”

Ben scoffs. “What are you talking about? I’m always smooth.”

Devi tosses her head back and forth. “You’re smooth a passable percentage of the time.”

Ben’s mouth drops open in mock outrage. “A passable percent?”

“Like 52%, maybe 55% if you’re lucky.”

“You wound me, David.”

Devi snorts. “Even over 50% is a stretch, at least 30% of the time, I’m probably just endeared because it’s you, not because you’re even slightly suave.”

“Not even slightly suave?”

Devi pats his chest condescendingly. “You need to stop trying so hard. It only works when you’re not trying to be charming.”

Ben leans in, tugging her even closer by wrapping an arm around her waist. “Oh, really?”

He is so, so close, and she can feel his breath ghosting her cheek. And _fuck_ , the way he’s looking at her right now, eyes dark and wanting, is so so tempting, but Devi knows this isn’t the time. “Not now, Ben,” she says sternly. “I need to get my bio textbook.” She smacks his chest lightly. “Move.”

“You care about your textbooks more than me?” Ben pouts, releasing her from his hold.

Devi smacks him again, this time with the textbook she’s pulled out of her bag. “Duh.”

Ben clutches his chest in mock offence. “You’re so rude to me, David.”

Devi cocks her head. “I could change how I ask you.” She steps closer. “Oh, Ben,” she says batting her eyelashes, her tone sickeningly saccharine. “Won’t you move for me?”

He smirks and his voice drops to a whisper. “Anything you need, Devi.” And then he does move, by dipping his head down to kiss her.

He likely means for it to be a quick brush of his lips against hers, a teasing peck, but Devi reaches her hand up to cup his jaw and kisses him more firmly. This seems to give him more confidence as his hands hesitantly hovering at her waist move to pull her flush against him. As his arms encircle her, Devi moves her hand to card through his hair—which is so, so unfairly soft—but even as she pulls him closer, she thinks he will never, ever be close enough. And usually, she and Ben forgo PDA at school, especially in the hall, but they both have a free period right now, and no one else is here, and god, she _really_ likes kissing her boyfriend.

Eventually, they have to break for breath, but Ben doesn’t let her go far, his arms remaining encircled around her waist. “Ben,” she breathes. “We agreed on no PDA.”

“Not technically PDA.”

“No,” Devi says. “It definitely is.”

“Technically, David,” Ben murmurs. “PDA implies public displays of affection, but since we’re the only people here right now, we’re not really in public.” He places a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. “Therefore,” he says, breath washing over her lips, making her shiver. “This technically isn’t PDA.”

The urge to kiss him again comes back in full force, but Devi temporarily squashes it down. “No,” she refutes. “Public means existing in open view, and considering we’re in a hallway that people walk through, we’re in a public place. Therefore, this is a form of PDA.”

Ben’s thumb traces a lazy pattern on her cheek, and he punctuates each word with a quick kiss. “Yeah, but no one can see us.”

Devi snorts, pulling back a little bit from him. “Still PDA.”

Ben smirks, cocky, charming, irresistible. “I can stop if you want me to.”

Devi peers up at him through her eyelashes and she can only blame her hormones for what she says next. “You know I don’t.”

She lets her eyes flicker shut the moment she notices Ben begin to lean in, but his lips never touch hers. Instead, they’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

Devi jerks back and Ben’s hands instantly fall from her waist. She feels her face burn in humiliation when she spots Principal Grubbs standing all of ten feet away from them.

“You two,” she says, making a beckoning motion with her hand. “My office. Now.”

Devi groans, smacking Ben in the arm a few times for good measure, along with mockingly mouthing, " _Not technically PDA.”_

Ben rolls his eyes and glares at her.

Principal Grubbs sighs, once they both take their seats. “I have to say, you are the last two students I ever expected I’d be having this conversation with, but you can’t be mauling each other during the school day.”

“We weren’t mauling each other!” Devi protests at the exact same time that Ben—whose blushing profusely, the tips of his ears bright pink—groans, “Oh my god.”

“Well,” Principal Grubbs says, placing a hand on her hip. “Whatever that display of affection _was_ , it’s completely inappropriate.”

“N—not affection!” Ben stammers, his entire face cherry tomato red.

“It looked like you were going to kiss her.”

“I w—wasn’t!”

Principal Grubbs arches an eyebrow and glowers at them. “Well, then, what were you doing?”

Ben blinks a couple of times, his mouth dropping agape. “I was just... helping her!”

Devi buries her head in her hands. “Ben!” she whines.

“Helping her with what exactly?”

“You know…” He swallows roughly. “Different stuff and—uh—things.”

“I sure hope you’re not helping any other girls.”

Devi finally looks up to see Ben’s face has turned an even deeper red. His humiliation is so palpable, she can feel it bouncing off him in waves, only adding fuel to the fire of her own embarrassment.

“He was helping me!” Devi protests.

Principal Grubbs snorts. “I bet you’re so eager to accept his help every time, honey.”

“I—what?”

Her principal leans forward, folding her hands. “Look, I don’t care what you two do in your free time, _seriously_ , I couldn't care less. Just promise me that if you two break up, you won't burn down the school. Our insurance doesn’t cover break up induced damages.”

“We’re not together!” Ben and Devi exclaim in unison.

Principal Grubbs snorts. “Sure, and I’m married to Denzel Washington.”

Devi places her hands in a prayer motion. “Please, please don’t tell my mom.”

“Both of you will report to detention after school.” Principal Grubbs holds up a hand. “And yes, there will be supervision.” She rolls her eyes. “If only to prevent you two from mauling each other.”

Devi exchanges a panicked glance with Ben as their principal waves her hand. “You’re dismissed.”

When she and Ben are back in the hall, Devi smacks him on the head. “This is what I was talking about!”

“I told you we could stop, David.”

She shakes her head and snarls. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

Ben tugs her closer by the wrist and presses his lips to her cheek and instantly she softens, the tension melting out of her.

“Stop it,” she grumbles. “You can’t just kiss my cheek and expect me to no longer be mad at you.”

Ben raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Why not? It clearly works.”

Devi rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but she’s quickly silenced when Ben presses his lips to hers, quick but firm, pulling back before they can get in trouble for PDA _again_.

“I hate you,” Devi grumbles.

“Yeah,” Ben says, his smile stupidly smitten. “I love you, too.”

* * *

4.

Devi’s sitting on the edge of the school pool the day her past and present love lives converge.

Alright, granted, she never exactly had anything with Paxton, so considering him her past love life is a bit of a stretch. He’d kissed her once, and left her a voicemail when she was at Malibu, but when they’d met up they both agreed they were better off as friends.

And as for Ben, well, her relationship with him is kind of _everything_.

He is the reason she’s sitting here in the first place, feet dangling in the water, making gentle waves with each arc of her foot. He wanted to prove he was jacked by swimming a few laps, but Devi hadn’t let him, for they’d rapidly fallen into their teasing banter.

She can't really be blamed, however, for monopolizing the conversation as it continues. After all, it's _Ben's_ fault he asked her what she thought about the latest ridiculously unhelpful project Shapiro assigned them.

“And then,” Devi says, continuing her rant. “Mr. Shapiro assigned me Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s diary entry! Like, it’s a stupid assignment in principle, but I especially don’t care about what that cheating bastard has to say! Not to mention, he’s a boring white guy, who already has too much written about him. I’d rather write about any interesting woman.”

Ben shrugs his shoulders. “Most people in history are boring white guys. We still have to study them.”

Devi shoves him playfully. “You’re a boring white guy.”

Ben smirks. “Can’t be that boring since you’re still with me.” He cocks his head. “Or maybe, you’re just super into me.”

“Don’t you dare get a big head.”

Ben completely ignores her. “I can see why you would, I’m quite the catch. I’m the smartest person in our grade—”

“Second smartest,” Devi interrupts.

“—I appreciate the finer things in life—”

“You’re painfully pretentious,” Devi murmurs under her breath.

“—And I’m ridiculously handsome and super jacked.”

“You are not jacked,” Devi says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Besides, we both know you’re the one who’s super into me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ben inches in closer. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you _are_ always kissing me, and you wouldn’t do that unless you were stupid into me.”

Ben leans in even closer, his nose brushing hers. “Given you always kiss me back, I think you’re equally into me.” He smirks. “Or maybe I’m just spectacularly talented at kissing.” He places his thumb on her lower lip and her mouth parts automatically, causing his smirk to bloom even wider. “You always seem to think so.”

“Prove it,” Devi breathes, her blood simmering in an infectious, intoxicating way.

Ben huffs a laugh. “I think it’d be more fun if you did, David.”

Devi doesn’t dignify that with a verbal response, instead she surges forward, cupping his face in her hands, and kisses him. Hard.

He reciprocates instantly, kissing her back with equal intensity, and his hands find their way into her hair. Devi slides one hand up to tug at his hair and slides the other down to press against his chest, feeling the steady, stable, beat of his heart beneath her palm. She nips at his bottom lip then soothes it with her tongue, as Ben pulls her closer, closer, closer. He tastes the same way he always does, like spearmint, and the familiarity of it, of the way he kisses her, makes her head spin.

Then suddenly, her hand relaxes against his chest as his thumb strokes her cheek. He’s no longer kissing her hard, passionately, with fervour, but in a distressingly soft manner. It’s like if he presses against her too hard she’ll bruise or shatter like a porcelain doll. Devi sighs with blissful contentment, completely melting into his arms.

Kissing Ben is often like this; it starts off with the hot, intense flash of heat of a match being struck, but as they continue to kiss, it slows down, turning into a steady, constant burn. No matter what way Ben kisses her, it always manages to take her breath away, like fire, consuming oxygen to keep itself alight. Ben lights a fire in her lungs, taking her breath away whenever he presses his mouth against hers.

Suddenly, the clang of metal startles them apart, and Devi shoves Ben away from her, but she is so startled that she pushes slightly too hard, knocking him into the pool.

Ben lets out a shriek, that under any other circumstances she’d mock him for, as he hits the water. Devi doesn’t have time to deal with it for seconds later, she spots Paxton stepping out of the locker room. Devi rushes forward to corner him, hoping that Paxton doesn’t spot Ben, who's now pathetically treading water. “Hey, Paxton!” she exclaims, her voice coming out a little strangled.

“Hey, Devi.”

Devi only then realizes that Paxton is shirtless and while that used to set her nerves alight, currently her heart is racing for a completely different reason.

Paxton cranes his neck, trying to look behind her, but Devi moves to block his view. “H—how’s it going?”

“Good,” Paxton says with a nod. “I was hoping to run into you actually, Becca wanted to know if you were free to model another few outfits for her.”

“I—I’m free!” Devi stammers. Then, attempting to be more suave, she says, “Just text me the details, dog.”

Paxton frowns at her. “What?”

“N—nothing.”

Paxton cocks his head performatively. “You good?”

“Yup!” 

Paxton steps around her, and Devi spins around to see Ben, who's now climbed out of the pool, dripping with water.

“Hi, Ben,” he greets.

“H—hi!” Ben stammers.

“Why are you dripping wet?”

Ben laughs nervously. “Oh, this isn’t water! It’s—uh—it’s sweat! You know, cause—cause I work out so much! Cause I’m jacked!” He rubs the back of his neck and lets out another shaky laugh.

“Yup! Yeah!” Devi exclaims. “And I ran into him here! That’s it! We were just talking!”

Her level of overcompensation kind of makes her want to smack herself in the face, if she’s being honest.

Paxton frowns at her again, eyes darting between the two of them as if he knows exactly what conspired. 

(Devi wouldn’t be surprised if he did, they’re being ridiculously obvious right now.)

“Okay, well,” Paxton says. “The weird vibes here are kind of freaking me out, so I’m gonna leave you two to... whatever the fuck this is.” He turns around to leave. “Later.”

“Later, skater!” Devi calls back, then she proceeds to actually smack herself in the face this time.

Devi steps closer to Ben, who’s still dripping wet. “What the hell was that?” she hisses once she’s sure Paxton is it out of earshot.

“I was improvising!”

“Improvising!?” Devi shrieks. “That was the best you could do? You couldn’t just admit you fell in or something?”

“You’re the one who shoved me into the pool!” Ben retorts crossing his arms over his chest. “Devi, my phone was in my pocket!”

“You’re rich! Just buy a new one!”

The anger marring Ben’s expression morphs into something playful, his eyes sparkling mischievously, then suddenly, he’s rushing towards her. Devi doesn’t realize exactly what’s happening until he’s wrapping his arms around her, lifting her clear off her feet.

“Stop it, Ben!” she shrieks, trying to wiggle her way out of his arms.

Ben clutches her even tighter as water continues to drip off of him. “Never.” 

Devi grumbles, arms hanging limply at her sides, and she’s pretty sure she’s going to be thoroughly soaked by the end of this.

Eventually, Ben does set her down and pulls back wearing a grin that’s bright, and clear, and slightly malevolent. “Payback!”

“Asshole!” Devi exclaims, but Ben’s stupid, happy smile makes it impossible to be mad.

Ben laughs. “Now you’re soaked too, deal with it.”

He steps forward, clearly meaning to tackle her again, and Devi shrieks, shoving him once more into the water.

Ben surfaces, coughing and spluttering, and she winces, offering him an apologetic smile.

Devi decides then and there that they’d both be better off staying away from pools for a little while.

* * *

5.

Chaos quite literally explodes on an average weekend.

And things do start off _average_ , it’s a Saturday and she and Ben are hanging out together on his couch. His arm is wrapped snugly around her shoulder and she’s tucked into his side, scrolling through her phone. Her head is resting against his chest as she listens to the steady, stable, _sure_ beat of his heart.

Devi always prefers spending time at Ben’s. His parents are never home, so there’s a lot less sneaking around and coming up with excuses to justify why they’re together or why they’re exchanging physical affection. No one is ever there to ask any questions, and Devi just gets to _be_ with her boyfriend. It’s easy, it’s simple, it’s _undisturbed_.

It only remains undisturbed for so long, for eventually, the growl of Ben’s stomach breaks the silence.

Devi turns up her head to look him more directly in the eyes. Her tone is light and teasing. “Are you hungry, Gross?”

Ben scoffs. “Of course I’m hungry.” He flexes his bicep. “I’m jacked and it takes a lot of calories to maintain this kind of physique.”

“What?” Devi asks, tilting up her head, so she can brush her lips against the slope of his neck. “Like 30?”

“David, you know 30 calories is literally nothing, right?”

Devi smirks. “Exactly. You’re not that jacked, so you shouldn’t need a high caloric intake.”

Ben’s eyes sparkle with something roguish. “Hmm,” he hums. “If I wasn’t jacked could I do this?”

Before Devi can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, Ben stands up off the couch, pulling her up with him, wrapping an arm around her waist and literally sweeping her off her feet.

“Ben,” she giggles, swatting at him as he continues to hold her a few inches off the ground. “Stop it!” She tries to make the words sound serious, but instead, they just come out a little breathless from her laughter.

Ben eventually sets her down, smirking. “Like I said, jacked.”

“You are not,” Devi grumbles. “And you’ve basically had everything in life handed to you on a silver platter.” She snorts. “I doubt you even know how to cook without Patty’s help.”

His eyes glint again and he leans in closer. “Is that a challenge, David?”

Devi twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, mimicking him by leaning in even more. “It can be whatever you want it to be, Gross.”

Ben ducks in even closer and Devi thinks for a moment that he might kiss her, feeling her breath hitch. She can’t quite bite back the disappointment when he doesn’t, and instead steps away from her. “Alright then,” he says. “I’ll prove that I can cook.”

Devi quirks an eyebrow. “And how are you going to prove that?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “My house has a kitchen, David.”

Devi places a hand on her hip. “Oh really?” she smirks. “I guess I was mistaken, I thought your house was just a giant empty void, lacking and all purpose.”

Ben laughs, reaching for her hand and tugging her along with him. He finally releases her hand once they’re standing in his kitchen and Devi takes a seat at his kitchen island.

Devi bats her eyelashes, the gesture cloy. “So what will you be preparing, Chef Gross? Grilled cheese? Pasta with butter? Some other boring white person thing?”

Ben pulls out a dutch oven and places it on the stove. “I was thinking channa, actually.”

Devi’s eyes bug. “You’re going to cook Indian food?” She laughs, shaking her head. “Oh my god, this is going to be hilarious, you’re gonna butcher it.”

“I am not going to butcher it, David,” Ben says, fetching various ingredients from the fridge.

Devi props her chin upon her hands as she watches Ben. He prepares everything with an alarming, shocking amount of ease, and Devi is almost annoyed she can’t find more quirks to make fun of.

She does, however, find one thing to mock as she watches him measure garam masala with a teaspoon.

She stands up from her seat and walks around the kitchen island to stand next to him in front of the stove. She snorts. “You’re seriously measuring out your spices?”

Ben frowns at her, he’s moved on to measuring coriander now. “It ensures accuracy, David.”

Devi shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “That’s pitifully white.”

“Not white, scientific.”

“Cooking is an art, not a science, Ben.”

Ben mixes in some turmeric and cayenne (both measured out to precision to Devi’s amusement) and tosses Devi a glare, crossing his arms over his chest.

Other than that, there isn’t much for her to laugh about. 

The ease with which he cooks is annoyingly… attractive, which is perhaps why the moment Ben places the lid on the dutch oven, Devi can’t stop herself from leaning over to press her lips to his.

He pulls back rather quickly. “Devi!” he hisses. “I’m cooking!”

“Ben,” she says, taking his hand and tugging him away from the stove. “You have to let it simmer for 20 minutes anyway.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “What’s the harm in having a little fun while we wait?”

Ben grins. “Oh, I’ll show you fun.” And then he pulls her flush against him and leans down to kiss her.

Devi reciprocates instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, closer, closer, but she thinks he’ll never be close enough. His lips against hers are impossibly soft and his kisses start out sweet, but eventually grow harder, hungrier. She knows her lips will be chapped by the end of this, and slightly swollen, but that’s a price worth paying if she gets to kiss him like this. She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of kissing Ben, ever tire of being so completely sucked into his gravitational pull. 

She tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck—which is so, so soft underneath her fingertips—and groans when he sweeps his tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. 

Her trance is broken by the blaring of an alarm, loud, shrieking, _insistent_. She breaks away from Ben and glances over at the stove to find smoke rising out of the sealed pot.

“Shit,” Devi curses, shifting out of his arms. She walks towards the stove and lifts the lid off the pot, finding that the channa is now aflame, and quickly shuts off the burner.

She spots Patty rushing into the room only a few seconds later and is thankful that she’s no longer standing so close to Ben.

Patty rushes over towards them. “Mr. Ben, Ms. Devi, how did this happen?”

“Uh… we got distracted cause we saw a… bird....hit the window!” Devi exclaims.

Patty’s face falls in concern. “Oh no! We must take care of that poor bird.”

“No!” Ben yells out. “The bird isn’t here, it's… dead.”

“Y—yeah!” Devi stammers. “It’s dead and we buried it!”

Patty narrows her eyes. “The bird must have had diseases. You must go to the hospital.”

Devi exchanges a panicked glance with Ben. “No, I think we’re good here,” Devi says as Ben chokes out a weak laugh.

Patty glances between the two of them, eyebrows knit with suspicion. “You weren’t doing something else?”

Ben shakes his head rapidly. “Nope!”

Patty sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, casting Ben with a disappointed look. “Let me handle the cooking from now on. How about you two head into the other room, so I can clean this up and prepare some snacks?”

Devi smiles at her. “Thank you, Patty.”

Patty shoots them one last knowing look, before she moves to clear the pot off the stove and clean up the mess they made.

Devi feels Ben reach for her hand, and suddenly he’s tugging her in the other direction. 

Once they’re in another room, Ben turns to her with a dark, angry glare. “What the hell?” he seethes. He rakes a hand through his hair. “Now she definitely knows.”

Devi rolls her eyes. “I’m not the one who forgot to turn down the burner.” She pats the top of his head. “For someone experienced in cooking, I expected better from you, Gross.”

“You distracted me!”

Devi shrugs her shoulders. “Not my fault you kissed back.” Then she smirks. “Or maybe it is, given I’m irresistible.”

Ben lets out an annoyed sigh. “Look, Devi, it’s no secret that I like kissing you, and I want to kiss you all the time—”

Devi snorts. “You’re rather forthcoming.”

Ben ignores her and continues. “—But we can’t keep getting distracted.” He reaches to take her hands. “Patty’s just one of many people who have figured it out.”

Devi feels her heart sink, like a stone in the water. Her hands shake despite Ben’s steady grip and her voice comes out quiet. “You don’t want Patty to know we’re together?”

Ben tightens his grip on her hands. “That’s not—” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Look, Devi, I’d be happy to tell her we’re dating, but what I wouldn’t want to tell her is that we got distracted making out while I had the stove on, that’d just be humiliating.”

The stone that is her heart loses density, floating back to the surface. “Fair point,” Devi agrees. “But you still burnt our food.”

Ben lets go of her hands so he can cross his arms over his chest. “Again, not my fault.”

Devi whacks him in the shoulder. “It’s fine, you’re rich, you can just order us pizza, right?”

Ben offers her a small smile then leans in to give her a quick kiss. “Yeah, sure.”

They end up sitting on the couch waiting for their pizza to come, Devi ordering pepperoni so she can try it for the first time and Ben, much to a combination of both Devi’s amusement and disgust, ordering spinach.

As they wait, Devi hooks her foot around Ben’s ankle and tugs, slightly, grinning when she feels him tug back. She presses her foot into the back of his calf and leans back against the couch continuing to drag her toes gently up and down his leg.

She thinks she could stay like this forever.

* * *

+1

It's supposed to be easy, sneaking Ben out of her house.

Devi’s done it countless times before, snuck Ben downstairs, out the door, and made it back up to her room before anyone noticed. And it should be especially easy right now since she knows her mom is still at work.

But Devi should be well aware that it’s always when you think a task will be simple, and don’t plan accordingly, that it ends up being a nightmare of complexity.

Such nightmare takes the form of her mother not being at work at all this evening, but rather sitting in a chair in the front room reading a book and sipping some chai.

Nalini doesn’t even turn her head. “Hello, Benjamin. Devi,” she greets them curtly.

Devi freezes midstep. “Mom! I thought you were at work!”

“Hi, Dr. Vishwakumar!” Ben yelps out, equally flustered.

“I had a last-minute cancellation,” Nalini informs them, marking her book with a bookmark and placing it on the end table. “Devi, why is Ben traipsing around my house?”

Devi blinks several times, rattling her brain for an excuse. “Uh…. we’re doing a project.”

“A project?” Nalini repeats.

“For history!” Devi says at the exact same time that Ben yells out, “For math!”

Devi tosses a quick glare in his direction, resisting the urge to whack him. She turns back to her mother. “For math and history!” she corrects.

Nalini sips her chai, seeming unbothered. “Math and history? And you two are working together for both?” She looks more directly at Devi now. “What about Eleanor and Fabiola?”

“W—we were assigned partners!” Devi stammers.

Nalini frowns, eyes darting between the two of them. “Your teachers paired you two together? Have they forgotten what happened in middle school?”

Devi winces at the memory: she and Ben had been paired together for the seventh-grade science fair, with their teachers thinking it would help them get over their academic rivalry, but that decision was overturned three broken beakers later.

Devi clears her throat, granting herself more poise. “Mr. Shapiro wanted to teach us a lesson about working together with an enemy for the sake of a common goal.”

Nalini clicks her tongue. “But you two aren’t exactly enemies anymore.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“No!” Ben exclaims, shaking his head.

Nalini takes another sip of her chai. “Hmm,” she hums, continuing to observe them.

Devi waits, and waits, and waits. Waits for her mother to ask whether she and Ben are dating, waits for the insinuation that they’re in a relationship, waits for another accusation she’ll have to deny.

But nothing comes. Her mother regards them both silently, then after a minute of silence, reaches once more for her book.

Perhaps that’s why Devi blurts out what she does next.

“Ben and I are dating!”

She catches Ben’s irritated glare in her periphery and has to suppress another urge to punch him.

Her mother doesn’t even look up from her book. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Devi exchanges several panicked glances with Ben before she finally chokes out, “What?”

“It was a little obvious, kanna,” Nalini says, placing down her book once more so she can cross her arms over her chest. “All the sneaking around and whispered phone calls and extra projects you were suddenly assigned.” Her gaze and voice become paring knife sharp. “And I once saw you two making out on the porch.”

“Just a peck,” Ben grumbles.

Devi ignores him and makes her way down the bottom of the stairs and steps closer to her mother. “You’re not mad?” she asks, voice quiet and childlike.

“I wasn’t exactly pleased to find out you were lying to me again,” she says, and when Devi opens her mouth to say something her mother sighs, expression softening, and adds, “No, I’m not mad.”

“Really?” Devi asks, voice full of cautious optimism. She looks over at Ben who’s still standing on the stairs and beckons for him to join her.

Nalini nods. “I’m okay with you two dating,” she says. “I still think you’re a little young, so we’re going to have to set some boundaries. But if you follow them, we’ll have no problems.”

Devi blinks a few times. “Woah,” she says. “You’re being serious right now?”

Her mother smiles slightly. “I trust you to make your own decisions. So long as your grades don’t drop, you don’t get distracted, and Benjamin has you home by eleven, not a minute later, whenever you two go out, I’m okay with this.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t push it, Devi,” her mother admonishes.

Devi rushes forward and hugs her mom tightly. She pulls back with a beaming grin. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she repeats over and over again.

“You’re welcome.” Nalini smooths down Devi’s hair. “I’m assuming you know what happens if you break my trust, right?”

Devi shakes her head resolutely. “That’s not going to happen.”

Her mother nods and smiles. “Good.”

Nalini turns to look at Ben, who looks more anxious than Devi’s ever seen him, hands tightly clasped. “Benjamin,” she starts, “how would you like to stay for dinner?”

Ben’s apprehensive expression melts away and he smiles wide and clear. “I would love to, Dr. Vishwakumar.”

Devi steps back towards Ben and matches his smile with one of her own. He looks back at her, eyes shining with a familiar affectionate fondness.

(It’s impossible to fully describe how Ben looks at her. It’s a futile, fruitless task, like trying to navigate the starless sky in a storm, but Devi will forever try. Ben looks at her the same way explorers looked at the stars, the only thing in a wide expanse of foreign sea that could show them the way. He looks at her the way one looks at a compass, a beacon, Polaris in the night sky. Like through all the insane, relentlessly spinning chaos of the world, she can guide him home. He looks at her like she is his home.)

She kind of wants to take his hand, lace their fingers together, have her palm be completely dwarfed by his.

But then she glances once more at her mother, who took everything so much better than she could have possibly imagined, and decides against it.

Later, she’ll have all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, leave a comment, they make me very, very happy.
> 
> I'm also @montygreen on Tumblr, come say hi!


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